


fünf verschiedene Straßen

by thesupremetrashcan



Series: zwei Wege kreuzen sich [2]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: (sort of), Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, slight bungou stray dogs manga spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesupremetrashcan/pseuds/thesupremetrashcan
Summary: Different paths must be walked for the sake of their salvation.(Or, the Holy Quintet get themselves entangled with different organizations.)
Relationships: Akutagawa Gin & Hirotsu Ryuurou & Tachihara Michizou, Izumi Kyouka & Nakajima Atsushi (Bungou Stray Dogs), Jouno Saigiku & Suehiro Tecchou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakajima Atsushi & Tanizaki Junichirou (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Series: zwei Wege kreuzen sich [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674256
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26





	fünf verschiedene Straßen

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with another crossover. Shout out to quarantine for giving me the time lmao. Anyways, stay safe and enjoy!
> 
> Title is German for five different paths.

It shouldn't be a surprise that things ended up this way.  But despite everything, Atsushi can't help but be taken aback with how enthusiastic everyone is.

"Is this . . ." Atsushi began, uncertain. "Uh, is this  really  okay?"

Besides him, Tanizaki let out a sigh. "Well, the President doesn't seem to mind."

Indeed, Fukuzawa was standing in the corner with his hands folded into his sleeves, making no attempt to interrupt what was happening.  Atsushi shot a look at Kunikida - he was diligently tapping away on his laptop, ignoring the little spectacle before him. And Dazai was,  conveniently, nowhere to be seen.

In other words, no one was stopping select members of the Armed Detective Agency from fawning over Madoka Kaname. Who wasn't their newest recruit or clerks, but a magical girl.

Atsushi was still having difficulty processing that information. Though it seems not everyone has that problem.

"I love your outfit," Naomi crooned, fingering one the pink bows on her skirt. They had been hovering over her since she transformed half an hour earlier. "It's like something straight out of a fairy tale!"

"Do your heels hold you back when you fight?" Kyouka asked intently, over the sound of Naomi's squeals. "Does it cause any problems?"

"What kind of weapon do you use?" Haruno said. "A magic wand, like in anime?"

Yosano put her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she considered something. "How does your transformation work? Are your clothes kept in a separate dimension?"

Madoka looked a little overwhelmed. Not that Atsushi could blame her. "Well, I, uh -" she stammered. "I don't know, to be honest."

Yosano sighed. "Shame. An alternate dimension to keep clothes in would be handy."

"City folk really are amazing," Kenji said. "Who knew people here could change clothing that  quickly?"

"It's mostly a magical girl thing," Madoka said, thoughtful. "It comes in handy when I'm fighting witches. And it's not that amazing. I mean, you guys have all different sorts of cool abilities, right? I heard Ranpo-san can figure out anything just by looking at it. That's  really  impressive."

Ranpo, who was up until now was sulking behind his desk, immediately perked up. "Of course it's impressive! My ability is the only thing keeping this Agency running!"

Atsushi let out a nervous chuckle. There was a murmur of agreement, and Madoka smiled. "That's awesome," she said sincerely. "Thank you for all that you do, Ranpo-san."

Atsushi leaned in towards Tanizaki, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Did anyone tell her to say that beforehand?"

Tanizaki shook his head,  equally as baffled. "No. Not that I can tell."

Atsushi's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Then how . . ."

Tanizaki shrugged. "I guess she's  just  that nice."

Their attention was diverted back to the fray as Naomi gave an excited little shriek. Somehow, Madoka had summoned a bow out of thin air.  It was pink and delicate, almost ephemeral in its dreaminess, but Atsushi had a feeling it could skewer him if given the chance.

"I guess that answers the question of whether she fights with a magic wand?" Tanizaki offered weakly.

"Uh," Atsushi said, dazed. "I guess."

"At least she's fitting in," Tanizaki said. "That's good."

Atsushi looked at Madoka, who was now laughing at something Kyouka said. Kyouka was gingerly turning the bow over in her hands, her eyes wide with awe. The tight knot in his chest loosened.

"Yeah," Atsushi agreed, and allowed himself to smile a little.

* * *

In the deepest pits of Yokohama’s underbelly, where even the light could not permeate the darkness, the sound of loud bickering filled a nearby alleyway.

“I can eat whenever I want to, asshole!” Kyoko Sakura retorted, and aggressively threw back a stick of pocky.

“But why the hell now?” Tachihara shot back. “If you’re out to hunt some witches or whatever you call ‘em -”

“Why shouldn’t I, huh?”

“It’s annoying!”

“Well, that’s kind of a _you_ problem, isn’t it.”

“You wanna die, brat?”

“Ha! I’ll kick your ass!”

“Enough,” Hirotsu said. Purple light flared around his fingers. “Must I remind you what will happen if you keep this up?”

The two of them went quiet, both wearing disgruntled expressions, though for different reasons. Despite her uncaring, callous attitude, Kyoko had some degree of respect for Hirotsu. It was hard to see why - Kyoko was straightforward, but everything else about her wasn’t.  Maybe it was because of his ability. Or maybe it was the fact that he managed to survive this long in the mafia.

Gin stifled her amusement when a few minutes later, Kyoko begrudgingly offered Tachihara a stick of pocky. A silent truce for the time being, in the face of Hirotsu’s wrath. Tachihara, much to her surprise, accepted.

Kyoko skirted around a corner and stopped. The corner of her lips curved up into a savage smirk. “Well, here we are. This is what you want me to get rid of, right?”

A pulsing light enveloped a warehouse door, with unreadable runes drifted from within. As if the world was wavering before their eyes, ready to disappear before they could even react. From within came the soft chantings of a strange lullaby, beckoning them to come forwards.

“Dispatch the witch quickly, please,” Hirotsu said. His monocle flashed in the moonlight. “It has caused enough problems for us."

A burst of red light; Kyoko was now dressed in an entirely different outfit, her fingers closing around a spear. She threw down the empty box of pocky, grinding it beneath her feet. “‘Course, old man.  Just don’t come in after me, will ya? That'll be a pain.”

“Shut up and get moving,” Tachihara said. “Or are you all talk and no show?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kyoko said flippantly. “Whatever makes you feel better. I’ll  be done  in a sec."

With that, Kyoko threw open the door and launched herself down a winding staircase.  The door slammed shut behind her with a ringing finality, echoing ominously in the alleyway.

Tachihara sighed and leaned against the wall. “Think she’ll be able to take care of it?”

Gin shrugged. Kyoko seemed to be capable enough, but the strength of her opponent might offset that. She didn’t know much about witches, but they seem formidable enough to take Kyoko down if she wasn’t careful. Then again, Kyoko can handle herself in a fight.  The boss had tested her skills by sending their guerilla squads after her - they later found their subordinates battered on the ground as Kyoko sat atop a pile of crates,  nonchalantly chewing on a chocolate bar.

There was something mildly terrifying about that.

Across from her, Hirotsu lit up a cigarette, breathing out a wreath of smoke. Tachihara, already restless, pulled out his guns and began to check his ammunition. Gin felt for the comforting weight of her knife and closed her eyes.

Now, all there was to do was to wait.

* * *

Mami Tomoe poured herself a cup of tea, her countenance gentle as she cradled the fragile porcelain cup in her hands. “This is very good,” she said after she took a sip.

She was far too serene for this type of situation, especially considering what Tecchou was doing to his drink.

“Hot tea is good to have during a meeting,” Tecchou said, snapping the cap back onto a bottle.

Jouno exhaled. “Not if you put _soy sauce_ in it, Tecchou-san.”

“I like it.”

“Your tastebuds are defective.”

“Jouno-san,” Mami Tomoe interrupted. He can tell she was smiling pleasantly, confused but still poised.  And also ready to break up an argument, much like a mother pulling apart her two rambunctious children. “Would you like more tea?”

It was hard not to feel irritated when a fifteen-year-old girl was acting as a temporary guardian while the commander and vice commander were out. Although, if they were here, it’ll be even more of a headache. So Jouno accepted the second cup of tea, ignoring Tecchou as he did so.

“So where exactly is Commander Fukuchi and Vice Commander Teruko?” Mami asked.

“Taking care of some business,” Juno said vaguely.  It was more like Teruko was painting the walls red with a prisoner’s blood, while the commander was taking care of a growing terrorist group somewhere down south. It might be best to keep their ‘guest’ in the dark for the time being.  Mami Tomoe didn’t strike him as someone who would appreciate torture, even if it is for the betterment of the country.

Mami set down her teacup, breaking his reverie. “I wish Sakaguchi-san would tell me what this is all about.  I mean, Kaname-san was sent out to a different place altogether, and Miki-san’s back with the Special Abilities Department. Why separate us? Miki-san might be fine, but Kaname-san’s a bit timid at times. She’s a bit more inexperienced."

“They’ll be fine,” Tecchou said. “From what I heard, the Armed Detective Agency is an honorable establishment. Kaname-san will be in good hands there.”

Mami tilted her head back. “That’s a relief,” she murmured. “They need someone to look after them, and I’m . . .”

She trailed off, eyes lowering to the table. “Nevermind about that. Tecchou-san, what exactly do you do in the Hunting Dogs?”

As Tecchou began to rattle off his duties in the organization, Jouno considered Mami with interest.  From the way she presented herself, and what little information there is on her file, Mami Tomoe came off as a responsible but lonely girl. One of the many orphans in this world who were left behind.  Her parents had died in a car accident a few years back, and she would have gone with them if she didn’t form a contract to become a magical girl. Or so she told Ango Sakaguchi. It wasn’t a lie, at any rate.

Yet for all her ideals, Mami Tomoe was also _weak_.  Jouno can hear it in the way she spoke of her comrades, the way her voice trembled when she dared to think about the possibilities that awaited them. Far too emotional to do any good, and still she tries.

How distasteful.

“Jouno-san,” Mami said. “Are you alright?”

Genuine concern was laced through her words. Jouno forced down a scoff and cocked his head to the side.  A familiar set of footsteps were gradually getting louder as they approached the meeting room.  Deliberately  brushing aside her question, he said, “Ah, that will be Teruko-san and Fukuchi-san coming.”

As if on cue, the door burst open, and demands of “Gimme a piggy-back ride, Jouno!”  quickly followed. Fukuchi swept in, welcoming Mami with his usual ferocious good cheer. To her credit, she took it all in her stride, standing up to greet the commander.  The meeting began with a flurry of whining, shouting, and Jouno telling Tecchou to please die as Teruko sat on his shoulders.

And in between the moments of chaos, Mami Tomoe’s breathing remained even, her heartbeat marching steadily onwards.

* * *

Ango Sakaguchi was so tired.

That was nothing new. He couldn’t the last time he got a full night’s worth of sleep. Actually, he couldn’t even recall the last time he laid down in a proper bed.  Half on auto-pilot, he pivoted around to face his other monitor to type out another email to another high-ranking official. His hands flew over the keyboard, his fingers forming words when his brain cannot. It was now a habit more than anything.

“You look so stressed,” a voice said. Ango didn’t even lookup. Sayaka Miki was behind another empty desk in his office, rifling through some books.  Obviously bored without Madoka Kaname and Mami Tomoe.

Ango was not good at playing babysitter, especially with this amount of paperwork.

“Hey,” Sayaka Miki said. “Do you ever sleep? ‘Cause that’s the fourth cup of coffee you had in three hours.”

“Do you think I can afford a break?” Ango mumbled, sending the email. He picked up his pen and started to plow through some more documents.

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Sayaka said. “How are you not dead?”

Ango didn’t even have the strength to laugh. “Luck, I suppose.”

“Geez,” Sayaka said in surprise. “Did us showing up cause a problem for you?”

“In a way,” Ango replied. “It created more paperwork as if there wasn’t enough to take care of, but . . .”

“But what?”

“If it means this city is still standing, then I don’t think I have a right to complain.”

“You’re committed to this, aren’t you,” Sayaka said. She lifted her hand and watched as her silver ring glint underneath the office lights. An absent gesture, devoid of any real meaning.

Ango pushed up his glasses. “You can call it that.”

The word made something in his chest twist, though he couldn’t explain why.  Maybe it was because, once upon a time, he was committed to something else entirely. To the blue-hued night where he can sit on a worn bar stool and talk softly about nothing with two people. Two people he cared so deeply about.

But his life was no fairy tale. So there was no chance for a happy ending in that particular story.

“I guess we’re in this together, huh?” Sayaka said. “We both have something we’re willing to protect. That’s something.”

Wistfulness was so evident in her words that Ango didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, he pulled another stack of papers towards him.

He had a feeling that today was going to be much longer than usual.

* * *

Nothing much scared her anymore. Not even a demon - or was he a devil? - with his cold eyes and ruthless ambitions, concealed in the darkness.

Nothing will scare her. Not until Madoka is safe. Not until she can find a way out of this endless maze.

“Do we have a deal, Fyodor Dostoyevsky?” Homura said. Apathetic. Cool. There would be no holes in her mask, not before him.

Dostoyevsky smiles at her, amused. Like she was a new toy for him to play with. That would have bothered her before. Now -

_I’ll be anything if it’s for her sake._

“That depends, Homura Akemi,” he said, lacing his fingers together. “You do have an interesting proposition.”

“I meant what I said,” Homura said. “I will lend you my ability for all your machinations. In return for my services, you have to write another line in the Book.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

Homura raised her chin. Her eyes flashed dangerously underneath the dim light fixtures. She knew he thought of her as inferior. His patronizing tone made that clear enough.

But Homura was far from stupid. How could she be, when she had gone through so many timelines?

“I will tell you when the time is right,” Homura said. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “So? Do you accept the conditions?”

Dostoyevsky sighed, a faint but amused sound. “Very well, Homura Akemi. I accept your . . . conditions, or so you call them.”

And despite everything, Homura couldn’t help but think that she had sold her soul to the devil for a second time.

She banished the thought from her mind. Madoka is the only thing that mattered. The last glimpse of salvation in her life. She will ensure her safety. Even if it means cooperating with this devil who yearned to be a god. Even if it means putting up with the jester waiting outside. Even if it means she will stain her hands with black blood.

She’ll do it. She’ll do it everything that the devil commands.

For Madoka, that is a small price to pay.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus:
> 
> Before, in another timeline.
> 
> Homura Akemi fiddled with her braids, a nervous tic that didn’t help her to feel any more confident.
> 
> “Um, my name is Homura Akemi,” she mumbled. She gave a quick, flustered bow. “It’s nice - well, I mean, thank you for letting me work with you!”
> 
> “That’s fine, Homura-chan,” Dazai Osamu said cheerfully. “There’s no need to be formal, you know. We’re quite lax when it comes to these kinds of things.”
> 
> “Maybe to you!” Kunikida Doppo barked. “Don’t you start putting ideas in the girl’s head, you bandage-wasting bastard!”
> 
> “Ah, Kunikida-kun, how can you be so cruel? I only have the best intentions for Homura-chan, especially since she’s working so closely with the Agency.”
> 
> “The day you have good intentions is the day the sky falls to the earth!”
> 
> “Don’t worry, Akemi-san,” Atsushi Nakajima said hastily, picking up on her consternation. “They’re always like this. Um, you’ll get used to it after a while.”
> 
> Homura nodded, surveying the Agency with her hands clasped to her chest. Optimistic Kenji, disconcerting Kyouka, lazy Ranpo - all of them made her anxious. She avoided staring at the two siblings, Tanizaki and Naomi, in the corner. It wasn’t polite, even if they were doing something questionable.
> 
> Still. She was here on a mission, and she wasn’t going to let anything blindside her.
> 
> All the same, she hoped that this worked.
> 
> (It didn’t. Homura had to stifle her sobs as Walpurgisnacht rampaged from city to city, leaving only destruction in its wake. She put her hand on her time shield, the mechanical gears clicking into place underneath her fingertips as she was sent back in time once again. She vowed that this time, she would be the one that protected Madoka.
> 
> That’s not how the story will end, of course.
> 
> But she didn’t know that.
> 
> Not yet.)
> 
> ~~~~~~~~  
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are all appreciated! I'll be back to post another crossover soon.


End file.
